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Country 
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POEMS 

of 

Life in the Country 



and 



By the Sea Shore 

and 

Songs 



B. F. BROWN 





COPYR 


iiS'it 


B. 


F. BROWN 


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I 9 1 

GON. 


2 

MICHIGAN 




1 9 1 


2 




£CI.A316092 



INDEX 

A Bunch of Violets* 45 

After Huckleberries 18 

After the Night Time* 52 

A Light from Paradise* 57 

A Quartet of Wild Flowers 39 

Beyond the Starlight* 58 

Blue Fringed Gentian 41 

By the Sea, a Retrospect 50 

Crows in the Corn Field 14 

Daisies 39 

Days of Our Childhood* 44 

Evening* 57 

Falling Leaves* 62 

Gideon Smith, the Joiner 33 

Golden-rod 40 

Haying, Some Memory Talks 19 

His Wealth to Gain 38 

In Memory's Chamber 37 

In the Far Away Blue* 56 

In Summer Time 36 

Light of the Morning* 55 

Mary's Picture 43 

Nature's Play 16 

Nutting 21 

On the Old Farm 12 

On the Sandy Beach 49 

One Summer Night 47 

Over the River* 63 

Peace 52 

Peep, Peep, Peep 36 

Ringing of the Chimes* 65 



INDEX 



Roses" 43 

Schooldays in the Country 29 

Sleep, Rest and Waking^ 42 

Springtime 51 

Sunday in the Country 20 

The Blush of Dawn 25 

The Christmas Story* 53 

The Circus 30 

The Country Boy 26 

The Cottage by the Shore 48 

The Great White Throne* 59 

The Heavenly Land 60 

The Hills of Old New England* 22 

The Mis-placed Switch 24 

The Quilting Bee 34 

The River of Life 54 

The Schoolhouse on the Hill 31 

The School Exhibition 15 

The Sea* 46 

The Singing School 28 

The Sleighing Party 11 

The Song Celestial* 61 

The Summer Morn 9 

The Summer Night 17 

The Sunset 9 

There's a Reason Why 32 

The True Pathway* 64 

The Winter Day 10 

The Wreck of the Titanic 25 

Yellow Cowslips 39 

*See third paragraph of "Introductory," page seven. 



Greeting 



TO 

THE FRIENDS OF MY YOUTH AND LATER YEARS, TO ALL 

THOSE WHO LOVE THE LIFE IN THE COUNTRY AND 

BY THE SHORE, AND TO THOSE FOND OF SONGS, 

SACRED AND SECULAR, THIS LITTLE BOOK 

COMES AS A KINDLY GREETING, A 

KINDLY ACCEPTANCE IS MY WISH. 



A copy of this book will be mailed postpaid on 
receipt of 50 cents. 

Address 
B. F. BROWN, Muskegon. Michigan. 



INTRODUCTORY 

'^HIS little volume of verses has many lines 
^ which, while I read, make me, in imagination, 
actually present among the bcenes and with the 
associations there portrayed— in fact, these verses 
are born of my life in the country among the hills 
and valleys of New England, born of my school- 
days in the "schoolhouse on the hill," of the 
days on the "old farm," of the "sleighing 
parties," "school exhibitions," "singing schools" 
and many other happy times in childhood, youth 
and later years. 

I hope these verses may touch the feelings of 
many who read them, and that, like the treasures 
in our memories, "while we sit by the fireside 
and ponder them o'er," peace may "comfort 
our hearts like a sweet benediction." 

For those shown in the index with star attached 
I have written melodies (not, however, in this 
book) suitable to enhance the feelings expressed 
in the words. On the "Old Farm" was the 
home of my boyhood, and many years ago the 
home of General Israel Putnam, famous in the 
records of the War of the Revolution. I cor- 
dially welcome the readers of this little book. 

B. F. BROWN. 



POEMS 

From Life's Experience 



THE SUMMER MORN. 

A blush of pink melting in the blue 

With a lingering star just peeping through, 

A glow of light where the robin sings, 

The breath of the roses' blossomings, 

The silver webs on the meadow grass 

With tiny dewdrops overcast. 

The soft air stirred by the waking breeze 

To a low sweet song through the leafy trees, 

A thrill of joy in our souls newborn. 

All tell of the beautiful summer morn. 



THE SUNSET. 



A royal gem was the rosy west, 
Of heaven's works, the loveliest, 
Draped with a sheen of opal light, 
The day's farewell to the summer night. 

We watched while the Artist changed its tone. 
Till the brightest tints had softer grown, 
And as we gazed on the picture fair. 
We felt the hand of the Master there. 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



THE WINTER DAY. 

Bright is the dawn of the winter morn 

And icy the winds that blow 
Through the valleys and over the hills, 

Curling the drifts of snow. 

The storm is over, the stars grow dim, 

The moon sinks in the west, 
A rosy glow on the hills of snow, 

A morning with beauty blest. 

In the forest nook, by the ice bound brook 

The pine trees wear a shroud, 
And over their green its folds are seen 

White as a summer cloud. 

Now the sleigh bells ring, and the horses fling 
Their hoofs on the polished road, 

And the happy throng, as they glide along. 
Is life with joy o'erflowed. 

There's a charming play of the winter day 
On the heart, with a touch that thrills. 

And the cords of life grow strong for strife 
And the soul with courage fills. 



10 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



THE SLEIGHING PARTY. 

There's no school tomorrow, say, won't it ])e jolly, 
We'll have a nice time with Susie and Molly; 
No lessons to learn, no problems to do, 
I'm awfully glad, I bet, so are you. 

The teacher has asked the whole school to come 
As a big sleighing party to visit his home; 
It's fully ten miles and we'll all go together, 
Old "Prob" states tonight, there'll l^e beautiful 
weather. 

Charlie says that your father has got a l:>ig sleigh 
And that he'll let him have it and also his grey. 
Then we'll take our old Dobbin and make up a span 
And we'll lead the party, keep up if they can. 

That sleigh is a box, and we'll sit in the straw 
And have the best time that ever you saw. 
Take Susie and Molly, then Johnnie and Ben, 
And we'll find enough more to make our load ten. 

To welcome our coming, there'll be a big dinner, 
Roast turkey and fixings, or else I'm a sinner; 
And next we'll play games till time to go home; 
I hardly can wait for tomorrow to come. 



11 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



ON THE OLD FARM. 

Far away on the dear old farm 
Is a home with a lasting charm, 

Old and gray; 
Its roof with moss is covered 
Where the waving branches hovered 

Many a day. 

How often has the dawning 
Of a beautiful June morning, 

Long ago, 
At my window blushed while telling 
Of the roses sweetly smelling. 

Just below. 

The beauty, like a blessing. 
Of Nature, sweet, caressing. 

Filled the air; 
The woods and fields were glorious, 
And summer reigned victorious 

Everywhere. 

In meadows sweet with haying 
We, happy children playing 

Wandered free; 
The birds sang gaily o'er us 
While we would join the chorus, 

Full of glee. 

The round eyed daisies, spying 
The blue where clouds were flying. 

Seemed to say 
"Though sweet at times life's story. 
Up yonder lies its glory, 

Far away." 

Beside the brooklet flowing 
We found fair gentians growing, 
Heavenly blue; 



12 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 

And later, nuts delicious 
Encased in burrs malicious, 
Two by two. 

Of work we made a pleasure 
In filling many a measure, 

Husking corn; 
Plump turkeys, round us feeding, 
Thanksgiving all unheeding, 

Fatal morn. 

By fireside's ruddy glow. 
Outside, the drifting snow, — 

We would meet; 
With apples, ripe and red, 
And nuts on table spread, 

Such a treat. 

And as the flames leaped higher 
W^e, gazing in the fire. 

Seemed to see 
Old Santa Claus, gifts bringing, 
While Christmas bells were ringing 

Merrily. 

We had no thought of sorrow, 
'Twas joy today, tomorrow. 

Then, — always. 
Ah, me, as years grow older, 
The world seems hard and colder, 

Shorn of rays. 

But far beyond its toiling, 
Beyond its sad turmoiling, 

Shines the light 
Of Heaven, a joy forever. 
Where the bright day shall never 

End in night. 



13 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



CROWS IN THE CORN FIELD. 

Hang them old crows, they pull up the corn, 
The thievingest critters that ever were born; 
Dad sez "If we get one," he'll give us a quarter: 
That "if" 's a high fence and I think that he'd orter. 

I took that old gun and shot at 'em twice, 
But they didn't care, the corn was too nice, 
So I just fired again, hit one in the tail 
And then they flew off, had plenty of sail. 

Say, Billy, I'm full of a dandy idee, — 

Way back in our woods is a tall chestnut tree, 

There's a nest near the top, for I heard the "caw, 

caw" 
Of a crow flying there, 'twas the little crows' maw. 

A crow is a crow whether old or its young. 

If we get all those young ones, why Dad will be 

stung; 
So we'll shin up the tree, I bet we'll get four 
And that will knock Dad for a dollar or more. 

I expect he will sciueal but that won't do any good, 
Them young ones are eating his corn for their food; 
A cjuarter for one means a dollar for four 
And if he hesitates we'll stick him for more. 



14 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



THE SCHOOL EXHIBITION. 

The skool exhibition, why a'nt you a goin'? 
They say that our skolars will make a big showin'; 
The hull skool cummitty will be there ter-night, 
And the children will bring lots of candles to light. 

Down in the Smith Valley they had one last night, 
And them as has seen, sed 'twan't much of a sight; 
And in the Jones deestrick they didn't do well, 
But we'll show 'em how, make 'em think fer a spell. 

Jim's a practicin' now, every evening this week. 
He's up in the atick, you kin hear his boots squeak; 
He's goin' ter speak of an Injun so brave 
That he'd swim till he drowned, 'fore he'd be a darn 
slave. 

You know, our Salomie'll stand up and recite, 
She'll look terribul nice, goin' ter dress all in white. 
Jed Stebbins, he's borrored a yaller box sleigh, 
Throw'd out all ther seats, put in sum bog hay. 

An' reckins he'll carry ez many's a duzen, 
By usin' two bosses, got one from his cuzen. 
Cy, he'll do the drivin' and Jed pack 'em in. 
They're sure ter git there 'fore the show will begin. 

Don't sit there a smokin', just finish yer chores. 
Put on yer black trowses, them others is tore; 
Be sure and start arly, take Jim and Salome, 
After washin' the dishes, I'll ride down with Jerome. 



15 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



NATURE'S PLAY. 

Blue is the sky dome over the green, 
Golden the sunshine sifting between 
Branches that lazily sway in the breeze, 
Showering the shadows under the trees 
With arrows of light from the quiver of noon, 
By the bow whose arch is the bright sky of June. 

Sweet is the air with the perfume of flowers 
Yielding their life through the long sunny hours; 
With the song of the birds and the kiss of the dawn 
To give them a welcome, their beauty was born. 
And now seeks the sun its nightly repose, 
While over its couch drapes a curtain of rose. 

The clouds rolling upward in waves from the west, 
Wear the colors of heaven with silvery crest, 
Where the moon proudly sailing dispenses her light 
Till the little stars modestly creep out of sight. 
These beautiful charms of the night and the day 
Are glorious acts in Nature's grand play. 

In Elm Park, Worcester. Mass. 



16 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



THE SUMMER NIGHT. 

Soft whispering in the leafy trees, 
The slumber-soothing gentle breeze 
With fairy wand disturbs the air, 
Filled with the breath of roses rare. 

The katydid 'mid fluttering leaves 
Declares she did, perhaps deceives; 
The whip-poor-will has wish intense 
That Will should smart for some offence. 

Descending in the langourous night. 
With silent move, the moonlight bright 
Creeps through the windows, just to peep 
At white robed darlings, lost in sleep. 

O summer night! 'tis Nature's sleep, 
O'er all the earth its rest will creep, 
And he, who daily does his best, 
Will largest share in Nature's rest. 



17 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



AFTER HUCKLEBERRIES. 

Did you ever go for berries in the pasture lot, 

Go barefoot, v/here thistles prick, to find the thickest 

spot? 
Six-quart pails you used to fill, nothing else would do, 
Mother wanted them for pies, and 'tw^as up to you. 

In those August days, you know, it was awful hot, 
Largest berries never grew in a shady spot; 
So when you were melting fast, tired from the heat, 
You would break the bushes down, find a shady seat. 

Underneath those big oak trees, just a mile from 

school. 
There you'd pick the berries off, feeling nice and 

cool; 
Then you'd go and break some more, bring a big 

pile back, 
Dodging thistles here and there and the wasps' 

attack. 

You would never go alone, all the neighbors knew 
Where to send their boys and girls, where best 

berries grew; 
So there was a jolly time, every pail was full, 
When suddenly appeared in sight the farmer's angry 

bull. 

He bellowed loud and pawed the earth, we scampered 

towards the wall 
And safely reached the other side with no one hurt 

at all. 
But berries! there they stayed all day, and there 

they stayed all night, 
And there, perhaps, they're staying now if that big 

bull's in sight. 



18 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



HAYING, SOME MEMORY TALKS. 

Did you ever smell the new mown grass, 
Or ever have leisure the time to pass, 
Though short, yet sweet, in the field to rest 
While the haying season was at its best? 
If so, you heard the birds' sweet song, 
You watched, you listened and waited long 
And shortened the time for your homeward walk 
You can't forget, there'll be memory talk 

In a quiet way. 
Of the pleasures you had that summer day, 

Down in the meadow in haying time. 

In days of old, when the scythes would chime, 

While the men, in shirts and overalls. 

Would whet them sharp for many falls 

Of the waving grass into winrows sweet, 

And the straw-hat boy with scratched bare feet 

Would spread it wide with his two-tined fork; 

Is the place that makes my memory talk 

In a quiet way. 
Of the old home farm and making hay. 

And then, in the fervid afternoon 

We would rake the hay up none too soon. 

For the thunder-heads in the west appeared 

Like fleece from a sheep that was newly sheared; 

No time to waste, 'twas the workers' test. 

For the clouds grew darker in the west, 

'Twas a rush to the barn, to run, not walk; 

And that, too, makes my memory talk 

In a quiet way. 
Of how we escaped the shower that day. 



19 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 

SUNDAY IN THE COUNTRY. 

Sunday morning, no lying abed, 

The cows must be milked and the chickens fed: 

Breakfast after the morning prayers, 

Housework then with its many cares; 

Every day there is work to do 

Which can't be left, if you are true. 

Get ready for meeting, for all must go. 
The deacon plans to have it so; 
Hitch up the horses, two wagon loads, 
Three miles to go on hilly roads; 
At half past ten the bell will ring 
And very soon the choir will sing. 
Sometimes, the anthem, "Strike the Cymbal," 
A favorite of leader Kimball. 

A sermon long you listen to, 
He looks at me, then turns to you 
And makes you feel you are a sinner, 
Still, somehow, in your mind is dinner; 
And that won't be till half past three, 
For Sunday School the next will be, 
Then, in the sleepy afternoon 
The choir will start another tune. 

Another sermon yet to come 
While little folks all long for home. 
When church is out, those wagons fill 
And homeward turn to climb the hill, 
A part in one, part in the other; 
But once, was left the smallest brother, 
No count was made before they started 
And he slept sound when they departed. 



20 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 

But when they all sat down to dinner, 

Why, then they missed that little sinner 

Until a neighbor brought him in, 

(His face spread wide with cheerful grin) 

Who said, "I've got a kindly heart, 

But count, next time, before you start." 

'Twas Roosevelt's plan of family, — 

Now days, none lost, when only three. 



NUTTING. 

In the bright October weather. 
After winds and rain together. 
Whipped the trees like strips of leather, 
Then, we children, merry-hearted. 
From the husking gladly parted. 
And with bags and baskets started, 
Bound to gather nuts delicious, 
Nuts inclined to be capricious 
By the burrs supremely vicious. 

Gee. the burrs were most provoking, 
With a match we made them smoking. 
Roast the chestnuts by our poking. 
Under leaves and branches hiding 
Many chestnuts were abiding 
Just to help us by providing 
All we wished to homeward carry. 
Nuts for Tom and Jim and Harry. 
Satisfied, we did not tarry. 



21 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



THE HILLS OF OLD NEW ENGLAND. 

O, the hills of old New England, 

How the pictures come and go 
As my fancy paints their beauty 

'Mid the scenes of long ago; 
The old home beneath the maples 

Where the happy children play, 
E'en now their voices reach me 

Till it seems but yesterday. 

On a hill of old New England 

By the spreading boughs of green 
Stands the school house of my boyhood; 

Many years now roll between — 
Let the past become the present, 

Brush the mists of years away 
And once more upon that hillside 

Life is all a holiday. 

O, the hills of old New England 

Rolling on 'neath summer skies. 
Forest-crowned or waving verdure. 

How their glory fills our eyes; 
Many lands I've traveled over. 

On their sunny slopes to rest, 
But the hills of old New England 

Are the ones I love the best. 



22 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 

O, the hills of old New England, 

Would you all their beauty know, 
See them in the winter moonlight, 

When their brows are white with snow; 
When the Ice-King drapes their shoulders 

And like sentinels they stand, 
Ever watching, cold and silent, 

'Till the morn breaks o'er the land. 

O, the hills of old New England, 

Could their stories all be told, 
Of the joys and griefs among them 

In the days now growing old; 
Many hearts would throb with pleasure, 
Many tears perchance might flow. 
But we long once more to linger 
Round those hills of long ago. 

Refrain 

O, their beauty in the spiingtime. 

In the morn or sunset glow. 
Fairer still in breath of summer, 

Glorious in winter's snow; 
O, the hills of old New England, 

How my heart with rapture thrills, 
As I wander back in mem'ry 

To those old New England hills. 



23 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



THE MIS-PLACED SWITCH. 

Wearily, tearfully tramping home, 

— For the automobile refused to come, — 

Hatless, switchless, the maiden, fair 

Excepting the spots where mud was there. 

Declared that never again she'd go 

In an automobile without her beau. 

For highly elated, that summer morn 

She tooted and tooted her auto horn 

And tried to attain a marvelous speed. 

To the curves in the road she gave no heed, 

But the auto thus driven, go farther would not, 

Turned turtle and puffed in the meadow lot, 

And safely rolled that maiden gay 
Over a pile of new mown hay. 
Sliding her into a muddy ditch 
Where the sticky ooze destroyed her switch; 
'Twas a lovely crop she had raised herself 
Since the days when she was a little elf. — 
Lucky for "Maud" the "Judge" wasn't there 
To see her without that bunch of hair. 

The automobile was upside down, 

'Twas the most expensive in the town. 

But the dearest thing that perished there 

Was the switch of the maiden's home-grown hair. 

For the years will come and the years will go 

But never again on her head will grow 

Enough to make such a dandy switch 

As she lost that day in the muddy ditch. 



24 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 

THE WRECK OF THE TITANIC. 

There was wealth of beauty and wealth of gold 
Of value naught 'gainst a fate untold, 
The humble, poor and the millionaire, 
As the ship went down grew equal there. 

Down in the depths their forms will rest, 
But far above from the regions blest 
Came the Father's love and His helping hand 
To give them life in the Better Land. 

We never dream that our span of life 
May be cut short, while pleasure's rife; 
But, listen, — this the ages chime, 
Life here is dust on the wheels of time. 



THE BLUSH OF DAWN. 

'Neath the starry dome, from its eastern rim, 
Timid and pale, comes the daylight dim; 
A blush appears as the waking dawn 
Approaches night, tells of day unborn. 
Her blushes startle, impel the night 
With star trimmed mantle to take its flight; 
The blushes vanish, their work is done. 
For soon appears the rising sun. 



25 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



THE COUNTRY BOY. 

On a tick filled with straw, sleeping soundly he lay, 
A sleep that was perfect, for labor, part pay; 
No youth in the city could ever enjoy 
The pleasure of rest as much as that boy. 

The calls of the morning awaken the lad, 
Shirt, pants, one suspender, enough, he's full clad; 
Not a minute is wasted, for all of the cows 
Must be milked before sunrise and turned out to 
browse. 

No short hours of labor has this country boy, 
He knows that no farmer could that way enjoy; 
For when winter arrived the purse would be lean 
And a struggle till springtime the only path seen. 

After breakfast 'tis pleasant, in garden and field 
To work with a will for a full harvest yield, 
There's planting and hoeing and haying-time, too, 
And two holidays, just jewels for you. 

'Twas no hardship to work, how often I think 
Of the days, hoeing corn, how the proud bobolink 
Just sings till his throat seems bursting with glee 
And all of his song is intended for me. 



26 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 

O, don't you remember the day at the fair, 
Every one whom you knew was sure to be there, 
And bashful and awkward, your feelings awhirl, 
You could look, more than talk, when you met that 
dear girl. 

In winter the parties, the sleighing, the school, 
The games played at noontime, be fair was the rule; 
The good-night at the ending, the slide down the 

hill. 
And pleasures, full many, the winter would fill. 

O, boys in the cities, who think that you live 
And have better times than the country can give; 
Know this to be true, that the bright country lad 
Has pleasures far more than you ever have had. 

Fast life in the city, like brass covered with gold, 
Becomes artificial and spoils when it's old; 
But life in the country, lived true to the end, 
Has all nature's charms that life to befriend. 



27 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



THE SINGING SCHOOL. 

Now altogether, high from low, 
Do, ra, mi, fa, sol, la, ci, do; 
Just follow me and sing just so, 
Do, ci, la, sol, fa, mi, ra, do. 

The violin, as he swings the bow, 
Brings out the sounds, now high, now low, 
And the teacher, singing and playing, too, 
Is an awesome sight to his country crew. 

"And now," he says, "I will voices test; 
You, Thomas Jones, just sing your best." 
And Tom gives forth a rumbling roar, 
A bass untrimmed and something more. 

"Now, Mary Ann, it's up to you. 
Just show me now what you can do." 
And the healthy blonde, with the yellow hair, 
Soprano proves while the hearers stare. 

"A voice I heard in the rear end seat, 

Will Billy Smith the tone repeat?" 

Then Smith, he gave a piercing yell. 

Till the oil lamps shook, 'twas a tenor spell. 

"An alto now we want to hear, 

I think we have one sitting near." 

And Nellie sang, a voice so sweet. 

That all the school said, "please repeat." 

And so he picked them, one by one. 
Till finally the task was done; 
And singing school in the town hall 
Was started in the early fall. 



28 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



SCHOOL-DAYS IN THE COUNTRY. 

In the dewy morning, over hills and dales, 

Merry voices ringing, shining dinner-pails; 

Up the hill they scramble towards the school-house 

door, 
Just as you and I did,— many years before. 

Little bare-foot Tommy, Rob and sister Sue, 
Curly-headed Mary in her suit of blue, 
Row by row they're seated, faces all aglow, 
'Cepting "Stubby Peter," sliver in his toe. 

Teacher calls to order, "Class in 'rithmetic, ^^ 
Places at the black-board, every one be quick. 
How the chalk does rattle till the problem's done; 
Bennie proves the victor, calls out "Number one.' 

Now the writing lesson; see them try to write, 
Noses near the paper, some with tongue in sight, 
Little heads atwisting. think they'll do it better; 
Gracious! w^hat an effort, just to make a letter. 

So the lessons follow till the noon is near; 
Then a solemn stillness while they wait to hear 
Just a little tingle, then with rush and roar. 
From the desks and benches, out the school-house 
door. 

Pour the lads and lasses, bound to have some fun. 
Every minute precious till the clock strikes one. 
"School-days in the country"; were you ever in it? 
What a world of gladness pressed in every minute. 



29 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



THE CIRCUS. 

Say, Jimmy, I read in the papers last night, 

The circus is coming to town; 
So get your best girl and I will take mine 

And we'll hitch up the horse and go down. 

I saw near the village, on old Allen's barn, 

A picture of tigers a jumping, 
And elephants big with tails at both ends; 

I tell you. that circus is something. 

Tomorrow we'll go and I don't care a darn. 

If when we get home, it's a licking. 
For we work all the time and don't get a dime 

And whenever I rest, Dad is kicking. 

There'll be girls riding horses, with skirts like 
umbrellas, 

And stockings as long as your breeches; 
They're all pink and white, a most beautiful sight, 

Their riding, the fancy bewitches. 

For peanuts and popcorn and lemonade, too. 
We'll spend for the girls lots of money 

And laugh till we ache, while our jackets will shake. 
For the clown will be awfully funny. 

When down in the village, we'll go to the store 
And purchase pie, doughnuts and cheese 

And fruit, sweetened and canned, the very best 
brand, 
For a lunch with the girls 'neatli the trees. 

So keep your eyes bright, for money is tight, 
And whenever you can, grab a copper, 

For we'll need all we get, tomorrow, you bet; 
If we're questioned, we'll tell them a whopper. 



30 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



THE SCHOOL-HOUSE ON THE HILL. 

In the golden summer morning, 

Down the sunny winding road, 
By the verdant, flowery meadows; 

— How my heart with joy o'erflowed — . 
O, the happy days of childhood, 

Recollection brings a thrill. 
As in fancy now I wander 

Near the school-house on the hill. 

Birds are singing by the wayside, 

There's a nest 'mid bowers of green, 
Berries ripe stain little fingers 

While they search the briars between: 
Wealth of beauty, joy and sunshine, 

Nature's best our longings fill 
While we trudge along the pathway 

Towards the school-house on the hill. 

Blue the skies that shine above it, 

Curtained by the whispering trees, 
Rich the memories clustering round it 

Sweeter than the summer breeze. 
Smooth and hollow is its doorstep. 

Worn and thin its ancient sill 
By the little feet that entered 

In the school-house on the hill. 



31 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



THERE'S A REASON WHY. 

When you slid down the cellar door, 
And carelessly your pants you tore, 
And mother spanked the place, till sore. 
There's a reason why. 

And when the school had not begun, 
The school-bells rang and you would run 
The other way and found no fun, 
There's a reason why. 

When for that girl you seemed to care 
And wouldn't take her anywhere. 
Her smile dropped to an icy stare, 
There's a reason why. 

And when your soul was full of greed 
To capture more than you would need, 
And finally did not succeed. 
There's a reason why. 

And when you neared life's journey's end, 
And found yourself without a friend, 
Why, then you knew the reason why. 
The reason why. 



32 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCI 



GIDEON SMITH THE JOINER. 

"Carpenter & Joiner" that was his sign, 

But he'd join everything that entered his mind; 

The first baby show in the old Town Hall 
He joined and joined in the baby squall. 

Later he joined in the primary class, 

Joined the teacher in kissing a beautiful lass. 

Joined in the singing, then joined in the prayer 
And in every quarrel that happened there. 

Still later, when larger and able to play. 

Joined all the ball clubs that came in his way; 

He joined in licking the umpire, too. 

Whenever the chap wouldn't join in his view. 

O, that Gideon Smith, he joined the church 
And societies, all he could find by search. 

The Masons, the Elks, the Oddfellows, too. 
Why, he joined them all and longed for new. 

He joined with Salomie in wedlock bonds. 

Then joined with the preacher in holding her hands; 

He joined in living with her the life 

That made them happy, as man and wife. 

He joined in the crowd that went to his grave. 
But there, left alone, just his record to save. 

He concluded to leave and join Gideon's band 
And in singing the songs in the heavenly land. 



33 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



THE QUILTING BEE. 

"Sary, you must sweep the parlor 

And then open all the blinds, 
All them frames are in the garret, 

Wish we had some better kinds. 
But you bring 'em down, we'll use 'em, 

Put 'em on those high-back chairs. 
Reckin they're as good as Hubbards' 

Or as others any where. 

"Widder Maine and Mary's comin' 

Aliens, Hubbards, Chapmans, too. 
There'll be plenty for the quiltin'. 

And we'll have a sight to do; 
I'm a goin' to do some cooking, 

Make some bread and jelly cake. 
Sugar-quince, some tea and cookies, 

That's enough for them to take. 

"Here they are: 'why, Mandy Wiggins, 

Where on 'arth is sister Liz?' 
'O, she's feelin' purty meechin. 

Got a touch of rheumatiz.' 
Never mind, we'll do some hustling. 

Things are ready for you all. 
Seems as if your new skirt's rustling, 

Mandy, ain't you gettin' tall? 

Sakes alive! why look at Sally, 

My, she's gettin' awful fat; 
How's she makin' out with Hally? 

Bet he don't know what she's at. 
T'other day I heard that Cyndy 

Hoped to catch that city chap. 
Just because the brazen feller 

Tried to take her in his lap. 



34 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 

"Widder Maine sez: 'tain't no jokin' 

'Bout them little Hubbard twins, 
When you sort 'em, do some pokin' 

Till you find two safety pins; 
That one's Jimmie, always wears 'em; 

Johnnie, he ain't got but one. 
My! if anybody tears 'em 

Off the young uns there'll be fun.' 

"There, I guess you all need resting. 

Come into the settin' room, 
Mandy's in there, tea a-testing, 

— Made this carpet on my loom- 
Sit down now, don't stop for dressin' 

Wish the minister was here. 
But our Sary'll ask the blessin' 

We kin eat then without fear. 

"Mandy, won't you pour the tea, 

Middlin' weak or, mabbe, strong. 
Won't you all say how you like it 

'Fore I pass the cups along? 
Take some bread and home made butter, 

Try my cake, it's awful good. 
There's some quince and sugar cookies, 

Tried to make the best I could. 

"Well, I hope you've all had plenty, 

'Don't go hungry,' is my say. 
And I'm awful glad the quiltin' 

Is all finished nice today; 
Thank you for the help to do it. 

Now I bid you all good-night. 
Hope they've left enough for supper, 

Men folks eat an awful sight." 



35 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



IN SUMMER TIME. 

There's a mystery enchanting 

In the whispering summer breeze, 
Charming us to full surrender 

In the hammock 'neath the trees; 
Drowsy murmurings above us 

Of the rustling, timid leaves, 
Weaves a sleepy mantle o'er us 

And from weariness relieves. 

There's a laziness that credits, 

Resting brings a rich return 
Of the strength reduced by toiling. 

Toiling hard the prize to earn. 
Glorious Summer tells the story 

Of all nature in full prime, 
Bringing us a feeling prescient 

Of a glad vacation time. 



PEEP, PEEP, PEEP. 



Way down in the swamp, by the pasture near, 

Peep, peep, peep, 
The first voices of spring, spring actually here. 
Peep, peep, peep. 
They are little peep-frogs 
In invisible togs. 

Peep, peep, peep. 
When the twilight descends 
Thus they call to their friends, 
"Spring gently awakes 
From our long slumber takes 
Till we 
Peep, peep, peep." 



36 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



IN MEMORY'S CHAMBER. 

In the chamber of memory are beautiful treasures, 

Enticing us often to enter its doors; 
Its pictures are full of the dearest of pleasures, 

And, O, how we long just to live them once more. 
How swift sped the hours, how bright was the sun- 
light. 

How happy the seasons those pictures recall. 
Through the veil o'er the past their radiance glim- 
mers, 

Like glow of the sunset when night shadows fall. 

One canvass, presenting a scene of my childhood. 

Shows sweet little faces and white slumber clothes 
Encircling the fireside, whose bright, sparkling 
embers 

Discover the darlings just warming their toes. 
Another I see, — now the years have grown older, 

And softly the moonlight its drapery throws 
'Round a beautiful face, nestling close to my shoulder 

Enchanting and sweeter than June's blushing rose. 

There are moments so precious, they sparkle like 
diamonds. 
There are hours rich as rubies, whose record is 
there. 
There are days, like rare gems, when the blue arch 
of Heaven 
Seems the curtain of Paradise, wondrously fair. 
These treasures are ours, ours now and forever, 

Their beauty unfading, time adds to their store; 
Peace comforts our hearts, like a sweet benediction. 
While we sit by the firelight and ponder them o'er. 



37 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



HIS WEALTH TO GAIN. 

By the fireside he sat in his easy chair, 
Sat watching the embers glowing there, 
And thinking of days in the long ago. 
When he chose a way in life to go. 

In those days of old, ah, life was sweet, 
Its sorrows drowned by joys complete; 
The look ahead was a charming view, 
The stopping places bright and new. 

His purpose then was wealth to gain, 
To strive and never from that refrain. 
And now, at last he had reached the goal, 
But the embers of life must pay the toll. 

He watched the embers, while, one by one. 
Their light went out like the setting sun. 
And thought while he sat in his easy chair, 
That his all must fade like the embers there. 



38 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 

A QUARTET OF WILD FLOWERS. 

Yellow Cowslips 

Out in the woods in the early spring 
When the joy of birds just makes them sing; 
Down in the swamp where the alders grow, 
Twixt mossy bogs where dull waters flow; 
With bright green leaves, near the mosses old 
Are the early cowslips with hues of gold. 

What a joy supreme, just to wander there 
From bog to bog, look out! take care! 
Then a careless tread betrays your feet 
And their muddy tops is mud complete; 
A few more steps and you make a pull 
For the solid ground with your basket full. 

The songs of spring are in the air, 

The swelling buds their faith declare 

That the winter days are past and gone 

And the green trimmed boughs are hastening on 

To make the woods a leafy bower 

Where the sunlight shoots its arrow shower. 

Daisies 

Daisies purple, daisies white. 
Ox-eyed daisies, golden bright; 
Every little blossom knows, 
When the summer south wind blows, 
Waving grassy slopes in June, 
That its short life endeth soon. 



39 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 

So it uses all its power, 
Buds are opening every hour 
Fields of daisies, purest white 
Glisten in the soft sunlight, 
Gaily dotted here and there 
Where the happy children are. 

Picking all they want and more, 
Making daisy chains galore. 
Shouting, laughing, full of glee, 
Not a care, from labor free. 
Daisy time in leafy June 
Perfect chord in Nature's tune. 

Golden Rod 

Near the old stone walls, by the country road, 
Close by the fence, after fields are mowed, 
Bowing politely, to those who have trod 
Over the hills, is the golden-rod. 

All day long with the winds at play, 
Growing in beauty day by day; 
Counting its bloom as a mass of gold. 
Despising all others as poor and old. 

O, the golden-rod is a proud young thing 
And sways its head with a saucy fling, 
But when you meet it and stop a while, 
It greets you then with a winning smile. 



40 



POEHS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



Blue Frinsed Gentian 

Blue fringed gentian 
Claims attention 

In September hours; 
Born of sunlight, 
'Tis its birthright, 

Queen of all wild flowers. 

You must travel 
To unravel 

Questions where to find it; 
One year, hither. 
Next year, thither; 

Leaves no trace behind it. 

By the brookside 
Near the noontide. 

There its beauty glows; 
Buds uplifted. 
Opened, rifted. 

When the sunshine flows. 

Sky blue tinges. 
Dainty fringes 

'Round their lovely bells; 
Is the story 
of their glory 

That the vision tells. 



41 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



SLEEP, REST AND WAKING. 

Sleep on, sleep on, 
Sleep while the night dews are falling; 

Sleep on, sleep on. 
Sleep while shineth the starlight; 

Sleep on, sleep on, 
Hours for slumber are calling; 

Sleep on, sleep on, 
Sleep till Cometh the daylight. 

Sleeping, sleeping. 
Moonbeams and shadows are swaying; 

Softly, gently, 
Under the green leafy bowers; 

Resting, resting. 
While the night breezes are playing; 

Waking, waking. 
Gone are the sleeping hours. 

Arise, arise, 
For brightly shines the dawning; 

Arise, arise, 
The night is past and gone; 

Arise, arise. 
For now awakes the morning, 

Arise, arise, 
The summer day is born. 

Sunshine, sunshine. 
Robe of the beautiful morning; 

Falling, falling. 
Draping the garden of flowers; 

Smiling, smiling. 
Valley and hilltop adorning; 

Sunshine, sunshine, 
Charming the summer hours. 



42 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



ROSES. 

Down in the garden I wandered one morn, 

Looking for roses sweet; 
Roses in blossom with night dews thereon, 

Robed in a beauty complete. 
Searching I found the fairest ones there, 

Born while the stars shone above; 
Breathing their fragrance, their perfume rare. 

Sweet as a message of love. 

Only the best of the roses I took, 

Roses I knew she would prize; 
Payment in full would be her kind look. 

Just a look from the dearest blue eyes, 
I gave her the roses, said never a word 

But watched the light shine in her eyes. 
And then, in return, no language was heard, 

Her gift was the sweetest surprise. 



MARY'S PICTURE. 



Mary had her picture "took," 

Sitting in a little nook 

'Neath the trees, all dressed in white. 

In a warm caressing light. 

In a soft and mellow light; 

Sitting there she looked so sweet. 

Looked so tantilizing sweet 

That my heart was in a flutter, 

In a wild and happy flutter 

And some words I longed to utter. 

Longed, but had no chance to utter, 

Grew so warm within me burning, 

That unto my window turning. 

Soft I breathed my words and prayer 

That the throbbing, conscious air, 

Which would never fail to reach her. 

All those words might surely teach her. 

43 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



DAYS OF OUR CHILDHOOD. 



Out of the past, from the bright days of yore, 
Treasures unnumbered in memory's store. 
Comfort our hearts, while the night shadows fall. 
Bringing the old times back to us all. 
Far, far away, are those beautiful isles, 
Days of our childhood enrapt with its smiles; 
Far, far away, yet with favoring gales. 
Sometimes we reach them in memory's sails. 

Sweet are the songs that we heard long ago. 
Sweeter the singers whose voices we know. 
When, in our memory, this picture unrolls, 
Almost the old joys are thrilling our souls. 
Far, far away, are those beautiful isles. 
Days of our childhood enrapt with its smiles; 
Far, far away, yet with favoring gales. 
Sometimes we reach them in memory's sails. 



44 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



A BUNCH OF VIOLETS. 

Only a bunch of violets sweet, 

Only a vision of heavenly blue; 

Only blue eyes they love to meet, 

Only a token of love for you. 

Only a little gift 'tis true. 

Yet when you look with your eyes of blue 

Over them fondly with tender care, 

Surely my love will meet you there. 

Refrain 
Only a bunch of violets sweet, 
Only blue eyes they love to meet; 
So do I send them with joy to you. 
Breathing my love in these violets blue. 

Only a bunch of violets sweet. 
Telling the story of lovely spring; 
Shyly they bloom where the birds retreat 
Near by the woodland their songs to sing. 
Blue are the skies on a summer day, 
Blue are the hills in the far-away; 
Blue are these violets, yet, 'tis true. 
Lovelier still are your eyes of blue. 



45 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



THE SEA. 

By the rolling sea, on the wave-beat shore, 
Is the place I love when the breakers roar; 
When the howling winds drive the angry skies 
Till the shadows grow where the sea-gull flies. 

When the cloudless sky wears a turquoise hue, 
Then the sea replies with a deeper blue; 
And its feathery edge a white rim shows 
Where the sandy beach in the sunlight glows. 

How the moon's soft rays, in the summer night, 
On the dimpling waves paint a path of light; 
And the stars like diamonds gleam afar, 
While the sea sobs low on the harbor bar. 

There's never a day and never an hour, 
When by the sea, but we feel its power; 
And whether its mood be wild or tame, 
Its spell is over us just the same. 

The years will come and the years will go 
While ever its tide will ebb and flow; 
And never its breast rest quietly 
Till it laps the shore of eternity 



46 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 

ONE SUMMER NIGHT. 

Breaking gently in milky foam, 
Then returning, again to come; 
Constant never, 
Coqueting ever, 
Trimming with lace the curving^ shore. 
With silver fringing it o'er and o'er; 
Thus did the waves, one summer night, 
While we watched them play in the mellow light. 

The^jlioon looked down on an opal sea, 
Which softly sang a lullaby; 
Born of the spirit of sad unrest, 
Flashing the diamonds on its breast. 

O, never a fairer sight was seen 
Than met our gaze that summer e'en; 
The long white reach 
Of the sandy beach, 
Bathed in a marvelous pearly light, 
Beckoned us on through the beauteous night; 
It seemed like a walk on the Heavenly shore, 
By the boundless sea of the Evermore. 

'Twas a night to live in memory, 

Just the fairest picture there. 

To calm the troubled spirit, 

Like the breath of an angel's prayer. 

A haze, like the rainbow's shadow, 
Crept down the arched sky. 
Weaving with warp of moonlight 

A royal canopy. 
Whose folds were pinned with starlights. 
Whose beauty draped the sea, 
And all the realm of nature 
Was one grand harmony. 
(A moonlight Summer night on the beach near Point Judith. R. I.) 

47 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 

/■ 

THE COTTAGE BY THE SHORE. 

There's a cottage by the sea shore, 

Where the breakers ceaseless roll 
Over rocks and through the inlets 

Towards this cottage on the knoll. 
There, are woodlands, fields and pastures, 

Tempting spots in summer days 
Where the rambler from the cottage 

Finds reward that richly pays. 

Green the hillside near the cottage, 

Blue the sea in sunny days. 
Golden glory in the sunsets, 

Dimpling waves 'neath moonlight rays,- 
Years ago, for recreation. 

Resting free from toil and care. 
Full released in glad vacation 

Friends, life-welded, gathered there. 

Many ties, then sound, are broken. 

Stretching toward the Great Unknown; 
Little ones, who there were romping. 

Struggle now to reach life's throne. 
Life is ever onward rushing. 

Like the breakers, towards that shore, 
Where at last it lands its pilgrims 

Safely in the Evermore. 



48 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



ON THE SANDY BEACH. 

On the white sandy beach, 

Just to sit there and gaze, 
Breathing full the salt air, 

While the sun sheds its rays 
Over grasses and pebbles, 

Over waters of blue, 
Over ripples that sparkle, 

Is enchanting to view. 

A mysterious charm 

Envelopes the soul 
While we're watching the breakers 

Never ending their roll; 
The dance of the moonlight 

With ghosts of the spray 
Enthralls and bewilders. 

The world fades away. 

Till a trim little maiden 

Trips along on the sand, 
With eyes of sea blue. 

Cheeks ruddy and tanned; 
Robed dainty in white, 

Neither stockings nor shoes, 
A vision of beauty, 

A charm for the muse. 



49 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



BY THE SEA, A RETROSPECT. 

On the curving beach we stroll 

While the west is a rosy light, 
Till the flash where the breakers roll 

Discovers the Queen of Night. 

The stars are so bright, seems the story true, 
That some time they might have been 

Just windows through the arch of blue. 
To let heaven's glory in. 

The lights on the dancing waters 
Seem playing at hide and seek, 

While we watch with a thrill of feeling 
That language cannot speak. 

The beautiful night is o'er us, 

Like a master touching the strings, 

Its charm plays sweetly on our hearts 
Till a heavenly melody sings. 

Our thoughts are ever returning. 
Like little waves kissing the shore. 

To the past with an infinite yearning 
To live it all over once more. 



50 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



SPRINGTIME. 

In the shade of the old garden apple tree resting; 

While breezes play softly mid blossoms and leaves, 
And in its green branches the robins are nesting; 

Glad notes of the springtime my fancy receives. 
A perfume delicious my breath is inhaling, 

The arch of the sky wears a lovely May blue, 
And over its sea the white clouds are sailing, 

Till, harbored in sunlight, they vanish from view. 

Now down by the meadows where flowers are 
springing. 

The swallows are curving in crescents of light, 
While sweet on the air falls the jubilant singing 

Of birds new redeemed from the winter's long 
night. 
O, glorious springtime, when earth is awaking, 

And Nature in beautiful garments is dressed; 
Thy smile giveth life to each day's undertaking, 

Thy generous heart ever brings us the best. 



51 



POEMS FROM LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 



AFTER THE NIGHT TIME. 

Now creep the stars through the twilight, 
Brighter they shine, one by one; 

Softly the night breezes whisper, 
Rest, for the day's work is done. 

Sleep gently, sleep till the morning 
Waketh the birds and the flowers; 

Then, when all nature is smiling 

Through tears of dewdrops in showers, 

Never a day can be fairer. 

Never more peaceful the hours. 



PEACE. 

On the moonlit sands l)y the summer sea. 
Above, the vast infinity, 
Full of celestial harmony; 
Around, a sweet tranquility. 
The slumbering days last lullaby, — 
Stilled by the night's soft witchery. 
We sit and dream. 

The world is gone with yesterday; — 
Beyond, is all a mystery, 
Now, from the Night's divinity. 
Falls with her beauteous drapery, 
Falls on our souls like melody, 
A happy peace. 



52 



SONGS 

Sacred and Secular 



THE CHRISTMAS STORY. 

Christmas dawning, 

Christmas morning, 
Hark! The bells in gladness ring, 

Joyful pealing. 

This revealing, 
'Tis the birthday of our King! 

Refrain 
Tell the wondrous, wondrous story, 
Sing the angel's glad refrain, 
"Glory in the highest, glory! 
Peace on earth, good will to men!" 

In the midnight, 

In the star light, 
From a radiance like the morn, 

Came the tidings. 

Joyful tidings, 
"Christ, the Lord, this day is born!" 

Brightly shining, 

Far out-shining 
All the stars of eastern skies, 

Wondrous seeming, 

Glory beaming, 
See! The Saviour's Star arise! 



53 



SONGS SACRED AND SECULAR 

Towards the sunset, 

Bethlehem's sunset, 
Went the wise men from afar; 

Found the Stranger, 

Heavenly Stranger, 
Guided by the Orient Star. 

"Glory, Glory, 

In the highest!" 
Long ago the angel's sang; 

Rapture-thrilling, 

Heaven filling, 
Till the dome of midnight rang. 

Tell the wondrous, wondrous story. 
Sing the angel's glad refrain, 
"Glory in the highest, glory! 
Peace on earth, good will to men!' 



THE RIVER OF LIFE. 



There's many a snag in the river of life 

And winding its currents and way. 
Our bark must be steered through the storm and 
strife 

To reach the safe harbor some day. 

There's many a path leading through the mist 
That covers the future, that will be missed; 

We can only hope, that among them all. 
The one we find will have little fall. 

There's many a day when losing sight, 
The way seems dark, no beacon light; 

And we cannot tell which way to go 

Then comes the thought, that He will know. 

54 



SONGS SACRED AND SECULAR 



LIGHT OF THE MORNING. 

Light of the morning, beautiful light, 

Bringing the summer day. 
Thrills with its splendor the stars of night 

Till they silently creep away. 
Over the sea, like a shower of gold, 

Down from the arch of blue 
Its glories shine and the waves enfold 

With a beauty ever new. 

Light of the morning, from eastern skies, 

Joy to the birds and flowers 
Cometh while over the €arth it flies, 

Till sweet are the sunny hours. 
The night departs, afraid to stay. 

And rushing with sable wings. 
To the far, far west it speeds away 

While the light of the morning sings. 

Singing a song that 'tis joy to live, 

Singing with words of cheer, 
Singing of Nature ready to give 

Rich gifts to her children dear. 
Light of the morning, beautiful light. 

Never will be surpassed 
Till we reach some day in the far away, 

The Light of Heaven at last. 



55 



SONGS SACRED AND SECULAR 



IN THE FAR AWAY BLUE. 

There's a home in the far away blue, 

'Tis a beautiful story, so true. 

Where the stars ever glow 

While the clouds roll below. 

Is our home in the far away blue. 

Refrain 
In the far away blue, in the far away blue. 
Our hearts will be thrilled by the song ever new, 
Where the stars ever glow while the clouds roll 

below 
We shall meet in the far away blue. 

We shall meet in the far away blue 
All the dear ones in life time we knew. 
Robed in garments of white, 
Where the Lamb is the Light 
We shall meet in the far away blue. 
Refrain 

We shall hear in the far away blue 

That wonderful song, ever new. 

Which the angels will sing while they worship the 

King 
We shall hear in the far away blue 
Refrain 

O, the home in the far away blue, 
At the end of life's voyage, its view 
Will gladden our souls while the picture unrolls 
Of our home in the far away blue. 
Refrain 



56 



SONGS SACRED AND SECULAR 

EVENING. 

Shades of night around us close, 
Comes the hour of sweet repose; 
Saviour, keep us by thy care 
'Till Thy glorious home we share. 

O'er the earth, the calm twilight 
Gently breathes the birth of night, 
So Thy Spirit from above 
Tells us Thy eternal love. 

As the morning wakes the day 
Bright with many a sunlit ray; 
So at last may we arise, 
Perfect in Thy Holy Eyes. 



A LIGHT FROM PARADISE. 

I dreamed that I sailed on a river fair 

Towards the heavenly Jerusalem, 
While from far away, all the golden day. 

Came sweet songs from the angels home. 

A storm swept the waters, the daylight fled. 
Dark the night, fierce the wmd and cold, 

But I knew that the King of that heavenly land 
Would bring me safe into His fold. 

I dreamed that the King sent His angels down, 
That they played on their harps of gold, 

Till the storm was stilled and my soul was thrilled 
While the harmonies upward rolled. 

The darkness of night sped softly away, 
Ne'er a cloud in the sky's blue dome, 

Then a glorious Light shone from Paradise 
And I knew I was almost home. 
57 



SONGS SACRED AND SECULAR 



BEYOND THE STAR LIGHT. 

Far, far beyond the starlight, 

Above the sky-blue dome 
There is a Holy City, 

An everlasting home; 
There songs are songs the sweetest, 

With harmonies divine, 
There Light is Light eternal. 

There needs no sun to shine. 

Jerusalem the golden 

On earth its name is known, 
Blest home of happy angels 

Who sing around the throne; 
Some day in the hereafter 

With loved ones gone before, 
We'll live in heaven's sunshine 

And peace for evermore. 

Around the walls of jasper 

Are fields of living green 
Bedecked with flowers of beauty, 

The fairest ever seen. 
No storm within its portals. 

No fear by night or day; 
The Lamb of God its glory, 

Our Saviour, King alway. 



58 



SONGS SACRED AND SECULAR 



THE GREAT WHITE THRONE. 

I've read of a wonderful great white throne, 

Far, far away. 
Beyond the stars, the beautiful stars. 

In the region of endless day; 
There a marvelous light hides the face of night. 

For the Lamb is the light alway. 

Refrain 

Beyond the stars, the beautiful stars, 

Where the angels are praising the Holy One, 

Where a marvelous light hides the face of night, 
There standeth the wonderful great white throne. 

Rich harmonies roll round the great white throne, 

Far, far away, 
For a wonderful throng sings the grand new song. 

While the harps of the angels play 
And a marvelous light hides the face of night. 

For the Lamb is the light alway. 
Refrain 

Hosannas ring to the Saviour, King, 

Far, far away, 
To the Holy One on the great white throne. 

To the Lord of eternal day; 
While a marvelous light hides the face of night, 

For the Lamb is the light alway 
Rrfrain 



59 



SONGS SACRED AND SECULAR 



THE HEAVENLY LAND. 

My song shall be of heaven, 

Dear land of life and light, 
Where days are days unending 

Without a cheerless night; 
Where golden harps are playing 

And sound the heavenly lyres 
And songs of sweetest music 

Are sung by angel choirs. 

Refrain 
O. land of joy forever. 

O, home most wondrous fair; 
In Paradise, the blessed 

God's peace and love will share. 

There beautiful the mansions 

Our Saviour has prepared 
For those who here have loved Him 

And in His service shared. 
Beside the living waters 

Tn Eden's happv land. 
Eml)Owered in lasting verdure 

Those heavenly mansions stand. 
Refrain 

Would you too share its glory, 

Would you there enter in, 
Believe this precious story: 

Christ pardons all your_ sin. 
And if 3^ou now will trust Him 

And serve Him evermore, 
Some joyful day He'll meet you 

Upon fair Eden's shore. 
Refrain 



60 



SONGS SACRED AND SECULAR 



THE SONG CELESTIAL. 

Hushed was the hour of twilight 

x\nd dumb the massive bell, 
Within the dim cathedral 

A solemn stillness fell. 
The multitude were kneeling. 

The white-robed preacher bent, 
A holy calm seemed stealing 

Like dew from heaven sent. 

Angels in glory waited 

Above the dome of blue, 
And sang a song far sweeter 

Than mortals ever knew. 
See! From the choir a maiden, 

Her face like Heaven's shine. 
Oh, wondrous inspiration, 

She caught the strain divine. 

Like notes from Paradise, 

Her soul in every tone. 
She sang the Song Celestial 

Heard at the Great White Throne: 
A melody entrancing. 

Soft, quivering in the air, 
Beneath the arches floated 

And rose to Heaven, a prayer. 

Breathless, the people listened. 

Hearts almost ceased to beat. 
Earth seemed to be receding. 

And near, the Golden Street. 
They saw the walls of jasper 

And, mossy banks between. 
The Crystal River flowing 

By fields of living green. 



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SONGS SACRED AND SECULAR 

The maiden's song had ended 

When, lo! a glorious crown, 
Borne by a band of angels, 

From Heaven came gently down; 
Upon her brow they placed it, 

Clothed her in raiment white 
And by their wings, uplifted 

Bore her to realms of light 

Once more the music rolled. 

And now the angels sang 
The glorious Song Celestial, 

Till Heaven's arches rang: 
Its wondrous strains of melody 

Thrilled all the heavenly throng, 
And round the throne of God became 

The everlasting song. 



FALLING LEAVES. 



Falling leaves, falling leaves, 

Back to earth, 
Back to the source that gave them birth. 
So do we, life's voyage past. 
Take down the sails, release the mast, 
And willing, cross the storm-lashed beach 
Our Father's welcome home to reach. 



Muskegon, Oct. 11. 1911. 



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SONGS SACRED AND SECULAR 



OVER THE RIVER. 

Over the river our loved ones wait. 

Wait in our Father's dwelling, 
Watching our pathway till time grows late, 

While life's story is telling. 
Glorious songs will the angels sing 

While we are crossing the river. 
Dear ones will join in our welcoming 

Home to the bright forever. 

Close by the river the Boatman stands, 

Waiting His children to carry 
Over the waters to heavenly lands, 

There forever to tarry. 
Beautiful home in the far away. 

Thither our footsteps are tending, 
Shineth the light of eternal day. 

There with a glory unending. 

Time as it passes will surely bring 

All of us near to the river; 
Fear not its crossing, our Saviour. Kmg 

Safely from harm will deliver. 
Eye hath not seen ever land so far. 

Sweet is the wonderful story 
Told of the joys that await us there. 

When we shall enter its glory. 



63 



SONGS SACRED AND SECULAR 



THE TRUE PATHWAY. 

Could we roll back the curtain that covers the past, 
Could we clear from life's shore the sands of time, 

We would see the blue skies with no clouds overcast 
And hear the joy-bells of our childhood, chime. 

Then the path v/ill seem brighter as farther we go, 
While we enter the region of joys' overflow, 

And the schoolmates we loved will seemingly say 
"Come nearer and nearer, come join in our play." 

There are sweet little faces, the boys and the girls. 

Bareheaded they frolic, child-nature unfurls; 
Their shouting and laughing brings the times as of 
old; 
We've reached the joy-harbor, we're back in the 
fold. 

'Tis our childhood again: — then the curtain drops 
down 

And the waves of the past recede from the shore; 
The pathway now leads from the cross to the crown 

In the Beautiful Land of the Evermore. 



64 



SONGS SACRED AND SECULAR 



RINGING OF THE CHIMES. 

Chimes were sweetly ringing, 

Ringing one summer eye, 
Dropping their musical diamonds 

Down in a fairy sieve 
Made by the lights and shadows 

Floating beneath the trees, 
Gently woven together 

By the soft evening breeze. 

Chimes were ringing, ringing. 

Ringing each joyful bell, 
Dropping their musical diamonds 
The old, old songs to tell. 

Sitting there I listened. 

Listened to hear their ring. 
Ringing the old-time music. 

Songs that I used to sing; 
Then, when their musical story 

Ended at twilight's fall. 
Waves of the past were bringmg 

Songs from my memory's hall. 



Chimes were ringing, rmgmg. 

Ringing each joyful bell. 
Dropping their musical diamonds 

The old, old songs to tell. 

Long lost melodies, creeping 
Out of the sands of time. 

Tuned by my fanciful musings. 
Tuned to a tone sublime; 



65 



SONGS SACRED AND SECULAR 

Moonlight, shadowy visions, 

Visions of olden times 
Folded their charms around me, 

Moved by the ringing chimes. 

Chimes were ringing, ringing, 

Ringing each joyful bell, 
Dropping their musical diamonds, 

The old, old songs to tell. 

(One summer eve, while sitting under the trees in the 
Boston public garden, near to the many churches.) 



j^Sd 



66 




By the rolling sea, on the wave-beat shore" — Page 46. 



JUN 6 \9\2 



THE DANA PRESS 
MUSKEGON 



'r^C^W.-0>^'P-:H'" 



